


Happy Accidents

by thewolfthatwrites



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, so many other characters mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 09:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16302776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewolfthatwrites/pseuds/thewolfthatwrites
Summary: "Sometimes you need a second chance because you weren't quite ready the first time." -UnknownOrThe five times Bucky and Steve meet by accident, plus the one time on purpose.





	Happy Accidents

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo this fic has been floating around in my head for about six years...at least. I'd say it's about time I finish it, yeah?  
> Also so much thanks and gratitude to [freshwoods](../users/freshwoods) for being there for me throughout this ridiculously long process! 
> 
> I love to shove as many characters into things as I can, so this one has a shiton. I've tried to tag only the ones with speaking parts, but it's possible I may have missed some! Please let me know if I did!
> 
> Enjoy!

[1]

“These guys Ang found seem credible with a gorgeous website and lots of positive reviews on social media, plus they aren’t too pricey,” Peggy says from where she’s leaning against his bedroom doorway with her phone in hand.

“And they have a fun slogan!” Angie calls out as she moves passed the room with her arms full of flat boxes.

“I still don’t understand why you’re entertaining the idea that we need to hire people to move our stuff.” Bucky grumbles as he wraps up trinkets from his bookshelf before placing them into the labeled box resting on his bed. 

“Because, James Buchanan, we need to be gone by the seventeenth. It’s either that or we need to come up with three times what we currently pay. I sure don’t have extra funds to dip into, and even if I did, I sure as hell don’t want that intolerant prick as my landlord.”

“I know. But we are more than capable of—”

“Today is the twelfth, and Sam’s freshly out of order.” Peggy reminds him.

“I’m not—”

“You’re not going to move everything alone. Angie and I will help, but we have a hell of a lot of bulky furniture. Howard won’t do a damned thing, and you know it. We can schedule you to be here supervising the movers, if you want, but I’m not changing my stance on hiring them.”

Bucky attempts to stare her down, but as usual cracks first. With a long sigh, he asks if they can make Sam pay for more than his share. “It’s his fault we have to hire people in the first place.”

“He didn’t fracture his knee by himself.”

“True, but Clint found us the apartments, so he’s not in trouble anymore. Besides, he would probably help us move. Just let me call and ask him?”

“Too late, I’ve already contacted The Moving Heroes. You took the entire weekend off? You’re free starting when we meet to sign leases on Friday, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“Excellent. I just booked them for Saturday and Sunday. I know you can’t stand others touching your things, but remember this is for the good of us all, so you will suck it up and deal.”

“Fine,” Bucky agrees with another long sigh.

[|] [|] [|]

“They’re late.”

“Shut up, Bucky. There is no way we’re moving all of this ourselves,” Angie says, gesturing to the boxes, rubber totes, and furniture around them. “Peg said they were a little short-staffed this weekend, so they might be running behind schedule.”

“Have either of you seen Howard? He needs to finish organizing and packing up his lab.” Peggy says as she comes up behind them. 

“Last I saw him, he was headed out back…something about the grill,” Bucky answers. 

“Damnit Ang. I thought you were distracting him from that.”

“It’ll be fine, Peg—”

“It won’t be—”

“Guys! You need to come out here,” Sam calls through the open back door where he’s leaning on his crutches. The other three weave through the stacks to get to the back window to see Howard leaning back, regarding the grill, with a sledgehammer in his hands.

“Oh my god, Stark! We talked about this!” Peggy shouts as she slips passed Sam. “You cannot take a built-in grill with you.”

“We fuckin’ built this fucker, we are not leaving it here for that asswipe to enjoy.”

“That asswipe isn’t going to be living here, idiot.” Bucky groans and moves to follow Peggy outside.

“Sweetheart, where would we even put it in the new place? Huh?” Angie calls out from beside Sam.

“Not the fucking point,” Howard grunts.

“We do not have time for this, Howard; your lab is an utter mess. Besides, you are not going to leave a mess of cinderblocks here. We are not giving that prick any excuse to hold our security deposit,” Peggy tells him sternly as Bucky grabs ahold of the hammer before Howard can start swinging it like the crazy person he is.

“Leave it be, Howard,” Bucky and Sam say in unison. They’ve gotten used to pulling him off of ridiculous schemes as the years have passed.

“This is so damn stupid.”

“No, it was stupid of you to build something like this at a place we were renting,” Angie tells him.

“We were planning to buy it!” Howard shouts.

“Shit happens, we move on,” Peggy shouts back. The doorbell rings through the house cutting off any response from any of them. Peggy spins and moves back through the house.

“Fucking finally!” Bucky says. He sets down the sledgehammer just inside the back bathroom, where Howard will hopefully not think to look. He needs to double-check everything he had organized earlier. There’s a system in place. Everything is ready and set apart into specific piles. He looks over his shoulder at the front door when he hears a booming voice.

“Hello! I am Thor, and my partner Steven is still in the van!” The man speaking can’t be more than a few inches taller than Bucky, yet he takes up so much space. His presence is almost overwhelming.

“Hi, I’m Peggy; we spoke on the phone?”

“Yes! It is nice to meet you! We are ready to get to work! Just lead the way!”

Bucky jumps in before the large man starts to grab things. “We’re moving into two apartments, so we decided to start with the large furniture for one place today and see how far we get…”

“Excellent! Steven and I are happy to abide!” Thor says just as the second man is climbing up the porch steps.

Damn. Maybe this whole hiring people won’t be as bad as Bucky had thought. Steven is gorgeous.

“Steven! This is Peggy, and I didn’t catch your names.”

“I’m Angie and that’s Bucky. Mr. Crutchy over there is Sam, and my dear fiancé Howard is out back probably ignoring what we’ve all just told him, trying to figure out a way to bring the damn grill with us.”

“Got it. Thor, help me out with this couch.”

“Actually, we came up with a system, and the couches aren’t in the first load.”

“Actually, we do this for a living. Couches go in first.”

And there goes the attraction. 

That sets the precedent for the entire day. Every single time Bucky starts explaining the way everything in the house is divided, Steven speaks over him. He’s rude and short and an overall asshole. Thor tried to step in a couple of times, but it was no use. The man was a jerk. Bucky is happy for the twenty minute drive to the apartment building so he doesn’t have to listen to that jerk argue.

“Wait. Where is he going? That isn’t the right way.”

“He knows what he’s doing, Buckster. Maybe there’s a shortcut,” Howard offers from the passenger seat.

“Like hell. He’s going to get lost and then charge us extra because he can’t follow simple directions.” Bucky stays on the designated route and grumbles the rest of the drive. Sam and the girls had left twenty minutes before the rest of them, and Bucky can’t wait to bitch to Peggy about all of this.

Except that the van with _ We’ll be there to save the day! _ printed on the side is already in the lot when they get there. Howard has a great laugh about it.

“We will be neighbors!” Thor is proclaiming when Bucky pulls open his door. He has no idea what that’s supposed to mean, and he isn’t about to ask Steven, who’s pushing a handcart stacked with boxes by him right then. They spend the next few hours unloading the moving van and each of their own vehicles.

Sam hobbles around overseeing things, and he throws more than one look at Bucky as the hostility between Bucky and Steven rises again and again.

“If you don’t listen to me, all of us are going to spend the next month looking for things that were labeled and organized only a few hours ago.”

“You’re paying me to load, move, and unload your shit, and I’m fulfilling that.”

Bucky is seconds away from truly blowing up at the blond when Sam pushes him away with one of his crutches. Bucky breathes heavily for a minute before giving in and allowing Sam to lead him away. 

The two of them get into Sam’s car and drive to one of the local pizza joints. “Listen, man. I know you hate it when strangers touch your things, but this is something that has to get done by tomorrow. You getting angry about how the moving guy—who is 300% your type, by the way—is working and attacking him, which will probably cause him to quit, is not productive behavior. Neither is pissing off our neighbors. Nobody needs a vindictive upstairs neighbor.”

“Douchebag is not my type.”

“It kind of is though. You love douchey frat boys and jocks. Don’t deny it, I’ve known you too long for that.” Sam tells him as Bucky parks the car. They go inside and place an order for three large pizzas with various toppings.

“Wait, did you say something about neighbors?” Bucky asks as they’re waiting for their food. “Clint is the only person we know from the building.”

“The movers are roommates, and they live above us.”

“Oh my fucking god. Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. Which is why you need to cool it. Because while I’ll admit he’s being an asshole, you’re the one trying to micromanage everything. He’s a professional mover, trust that he knows what he’s doing.”

Bucky grumbles, but before he can respond the teenager behind the counter is calling out their order. Once back at the apartment building, Sam forces Bucky to apologize and suggest a few slices as a peace offering. He does, but is only somewhat sincere, mostly due to the fact that if they quit, Bucky will have to do all of the remaining work on his own. Peggy would make sure of it. It works well enough for the rest of the night.

The following day, Bucky decides to fill his truck with boxes and take his first load over early enough that he misses the movers’ arrival. He takes his time unloading and is able to get out before they make it over to the apartment with their first load. The rest of the day follows suit. He does his best to get all of his personal belongings himself, so the big, stupid, gorgeous asshole doesn’t have a chance to mess things up.

All of the furniture and the majority of the boxes are moved by early afternoon, and Peggy pays the “Moving Heroes” and sends them on their way. Bucky meets his friends back at their old house to finish out the day drinking beer and cleaning up. He can feel a little ache in his back as he lowers himself to the floor in the empty living and knows if he had had to move everything without the help of movers, he probably wouldn’t have been able to move by Tuesday. So, he has to admit, silently to himself, that hiring people had made the process smoother, quicker, and had saved his back a lot of trouble.

 

[2]

A few weeks pass by as they settle into the apartments. Bucky mentally retracts the idea that hiring movers saved them time when he spends way too much time the first week trying to resort out all of the boxes; unsurprisingly, they’re all over the place. The weirdest thing he found out of place was a box clearly labeled “APT 2 - Various Cutlery” in Peggy’s script shoved into the depths of the bathroom linen closet of apartment one. Then again, he also lost a box of boxers and tank tops for half the week until Howard brought it over crying with laughter after finding it among their pots and pans. Bucky spent the better part of the second week hoping he wouldn’t run into the movers within the building, unsure if he’d be able to keep his irritation in check.

By the second Saturday, it’s evident that they run on pretty different schedules; though hardly anyone follows the same schedule as Bucky, so he shouldn’t be surprised. The forced apology Sam had made him give seems to have worked, as there hasn’t been any vindictiveness coming through from above them at the odd hours Bucky has to sleep. He can usually hear when either of the men get home with work boots on, but they always seem respectful enough to remove those at the front door.

Overall, moving into the apartments works out pretty well for them. Sam adores having a maintenance staff to call when they have a problem, because while they were just renting the house, the elderly owner hadn’t done much in the way of home repair. Since Bucky is useless with tools, and Howard overkills every project, repairs always fell into Sam’s lap. Angie and Howard are vocal about their appreciation of a bit more privacy than what they had at the house; though, the two of them, and Clint, venture into Bucky’s apartment for food multiple times a week.

Bucky has about the same amount of space to call his own that he did at the house. He got the smallest closet of the three rooms, but he’s okay with that. All of his belongings fit perfectly. Overall, he’s not as bummed about the move as he had expected to be. A gigantic plus is that now, he only has to worry about two other schedules instead of four when it comes to showering and having the place to himself.

Like he has tonight. Peggy and Sam are  _ both _ supposed to be out, and for just the second time in the three weeks since moving, Bucky is going to be home alone. He’s definitely looking forward to the quiet. He loves the others to pieces, but sometimes he just needs some time to recharge. Especially after working for four days of sixteen-hour shifts, all spent on his feet, and he has to do it all over the following day beginning at four in the morning.

One of the largest downsides to moving into an apartment building are the stairs. Bucky lets his truck door shut softly and looks up at the building. From this side, he can see the lights in Howard and Angie’s place on. The thought that there are two locks and a hallway dividing him from them renews his energy enough to make it up the dizzying stairs. He finally makes it to his floor and leans against the door, trying to remember which jiggling method had worked the last time. He tries a couple different twists, and it takes a little bit longer than usual, but the key finally engages and the door pops open.

He can hear some stupid insurance jingle coming from the living room as soon as he closes the door. A frown covers his face, but he holds in the threatening groan. Something must’ve been cancelled. Bucky scowls at the pair of shoes that’re sitting just inside the doorway, not in the closet they’ve all been attempting to utilize. Well, if Sam isn’t going to follow the rule, then Bucky doesn’t have to either he thinks as he slides his shoes off.

Bucky takes a couple steps and lets the groan out when he sees the mess in the kitchen. Charger cords on the countertop beside a stack of dirty dishes. There are also a couple jackets thrown over the barstools.

“What the hell is all of this? You’re not even supposed to be home, man.” Bucky calls out as he moves closer to the living room.

“Um…” a tentative voice that does not even remotely resemble Sam’s responds.

The living room comes into his view just then. His eyes zero in on the man, not registering anything else about the room. It’s one of the movers. The cute one that Bucky clashed with.

“What the fuck? What are you doing here?” Bucky asks, knowing the tone of his voice could use some improvement, but can’t find the strength to change it.

“Watching TV after a long week.”

“But why are you here?”

“Because I live here…”

Bucky’s eyes finally scan the room. He notes how his couch and Sam’s recliner are missing. The TV is a different brand than theirs, and there’s artwork covering the walls.

“But…my key worked?”

“Yeah,” he sighs and shrugs. “They do that sometimes. You’re one down, Buddy…how’d you manage to go up another flight without noticing?”

Bucky can’t help the groan that leaves him. “I’m not used to any stairs, and by the second day I found it easier to not count. Apparently, I wasn’t paying close attention.” He groans again and looks down at his socked feet. Now that his shoes are off, he doesn’t want to put them back on and deal with more stairs. He’s ready to collapse.  

“You gonna be okay?”

Bucky grunts.

“You need to sit down or something?”

“If I do, I can’t promise I’ll get back up.”

“Ever? Or just like for a short time?”

Bucky just gives him a flat look at that.

“Topple over, delivery will be here in a few.”

“You can’t be serious?” Bucky asks with raised eyebrows. When he nods, Bucky finds himself falling onto the other end of the couch.

“Consider it my apology for the shitty attitude I had when moving you guys in.”

“Wait, so you’re not a raging asswipe? What will I call you in my head now?”

He actually laughs at that. “I try not to be most of the time. You can call me Steve. And, for what it’s worth, I am sorry. We were short-staffed, and I had to fill in at the last minute. I really wasn’t in the right headspace to be interacting with customers, and you got the brunt of that. A friend was going to take me out to improve my mood, but I had to work instead.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose I owe you a real apology then too. I get stressed out when moving—”

“Who doesn’t?”

“And when people interrupt me.”

Steve lets out another laugh at that. “Sorry, Bud. I can’t help that.”

“Yeah, okay. I also don’t like strangers touching my stuff. Hiring you guys was a last minute thing, hell, moving was a last minute thing, so I wasn’t as mentally prepared for it as I needed to be. Besides that, I didn’t have a lot growing up, so I get pretty possessive over what I’ve got now.”

“Understandable. I’ve actually been meaning to apologize to you…I didn’t know how to just awkwardly knock on your door to apologize. I acted incredibly unprofessional and let personal problems influence how I treated you. I hope you haven’t spread the word about my shittiness.”

“Nah. Peggy and Sam would probably clobber me if I did.”

“Well, I guess that’s good to hear,” Steve says with a smile just as the buzzer for the door goes off. “Hope you’re good with Chinese.”

“I’m…actually not that hungry…” Bucky says just before his stomach begins to rumble.

Steve returns with the food laughing. “I didn’t know I was going to be sharing, so there isn’t much here. I’m happy to split it with you though.” He sets the two bags onto the coffee table. “Want a beer or something?”

“Water would be good.”

“Sure, yeah. Unload all of that,” Steve waves to the food as he moves to the kitchen.

“Not much here, my ass, man. They gave you six fortune cookies,” Bucky can’t help his laugh as he holds up the small pile of cookies.

“Maybe they just know I like them,” he responds, snatching one from Bucky’s hand. He tears it open and bites into it.

“Doesn’t eating the cookie before the meal keep the fortune from coming true?”

“I thought it was reading the fortune and not eating the cookie?” Steve shrugs before looking down at the small slip of paper. “‘The fortune you seek is in another cookie.’ What kind of bullshit is that?”

“The cookie knew you got enough food to feed a family.”

“Whatever, Buddy. I got enough to enjoy it tonight and have great leftovers tomorrow.”

“Not anymore,” Bucky tells him with a grin as he begins eating sesame chicken from the container. “I haven’t eaten since…shit…eleven maybe?”

“You’re kidding, right? I thought I had poor eating habits,” Steve shakes his head in dismay.

“I mean, you are the one eating dinner at eight-thirty,” he says back with a grin. “I usually don’t go so long between eating, just when there’s a deadline that takes over.”

“What is it you do?”

“I’m a manager at a bakery uptown, and this afternoon, Mr. Peter Quill and Miss Gamora Zen got hitched. We delivered their cake to the venue last night, and then this morning one of their new cater waiters thought he could move it to get into the fridge and dumped it on the floor. Which, I mean, we all have those days, but seriously? You don’t just move a 4-tier, $1,100 wedding cake by yourself. Especially not on your first night!”

“Over a grand for a cake? Shit, that’s insane.”

“We are downright reasonable. Most places charge upwards of $1,600 for a 4-tier that feeds 250. So anyway, at like maybe nine this morning, about five hours into my shift, by the way, we got the worst phone call a bakery can get. And, to make matters worse, Hunter—our design master, who had perfected the technique needed for this cake—and his husband had just boarded a plane to Dubai for their anniversary. Thankfully, he had shown me a few things and Leo, his right-hand, was still around. It was just a mad rush, and in the end, the cake’s appearance was about 75% of the original quality. And that was on top of our regularly scheduled day.”

“What was the design?”

“Hang on,” Bucky shifts to pull his phone from his pocket. “I’ll show you Hunter’s masterpiece!” He pulls open the photo-sharing app that everyone in the bakery uses.

“Damn. That is impressive,” Steve says as he looks at the giant galaxy mirror cake. “I’m not sure if it’s more depressing that it was going to be eaten or that it met its doom on the floor.”

“Not going to lie, the fact that these get eaten tears me up almost every time.”

“I totally get it. I minored in fine art in school, and the amount of time and energy that goes into each piece... I wasn’t even that great, but the idea of someone just cutting into it. Ouch.”

By the time they’ve both finished eating, Bucky is pretty sure he can count Steve as a tentative new friend, well on their way to becoming buddies. He leans forward to drop the empty containers on the coffee table and can’t help the groan as his back shifts.

“You okay, Bud?”

“Shit. Yeah, doubles and rushed orders always get me. I didn’t take my normal scalding shower when I got home, so I’ll be lucky if I can move my neck in the morning, to be honest.”

“Mind if I try something?”

Bucky regards Steve for a couple seconds, unsure of what he’s about to suggest. Then he thinks about the fact that the guy moves furniture for a living and figures he knows how to work kinks out of sore muscles, so he lifts his chin in a slight nod.

Steve stands and moves behind the side of the couch where Bucky’s sitting stock still. “Lean forward for me? Perfect,” he says as his hands move to either side of the crown of Bucky’s head. Slowly, with the ideal amount of pressure, Steve trails his hands down the sides of Bucky’s neck and out onto his shoulders, before stopping to kneed his thumbs into Bucky’s back. He massages down his back for another couple of minutes before running his thumbs back up to the base of Bucky’s skull. 

“God. You could get paid to do this.”

Steve barks out a laugh in response. “This one’s on the house, as part of the apology deal.”

“Consider yourself forgiven. Thor must love living with you.”

“I suppose he does; back in the early days of the company, he’d have me do this a couple times a week,” he says as he removes his hands.

“Not anymore?”

“We’ve hired almost enough people so that he’s in the office more often than not. I think massages are down to once a month now.”

“Damn. If I was your roommate, I’d demand that once a day regardless. I might actually be able to make it home now without collapsing in the stairwell.”

“Glad I could help,” Steve laughs again as he stacks up the empty boxes to take them to the kitchen.

“Glad to know you’re actually a pretty cool guy,” Bucky tells him as he gathers up their cups and the sole container that has a little less than half the food left.

“Thanks. This was fun…we should do it again sometime, maybe on purpose…”

“Yeah, that would be cool,” Bucky grins and pulls his phone out to exchange numbers, but notices a panicked message from Angie from a few minutes prior. “Shit. I’ve got to go,” he says backing out of the kitchen as he reads the entire message.

“Everything okay?”

“Not sure…could just be Howard being an ass, or it could actually be an emergency; it’s hard to tell with those two sometimes. Thanks again for dinner and the massage. I’ll definitely be back after my next set of double shifts!” He tells Steve as he shoves his feet into his shoes.

“Sure, anytime,” Steve tells him with a smile. “Hopefully everything works out downstairs.”

“Thanks, see ya,” Bucky says as he pulls the door open and hurries down the stairs.

It isn’t until he’s calmed Angie down to falling asleep in Peggy’s bed an hour later that he realizes he never got Steve’s number. Oh well, he thinks, it’s not like he’ll never see the man again. He shrugs to himself as he makes his way across the hall to lay into Howard. It had taken twenty minutes, upon finding Angie outside his apartment crying, to understand what had upset her. Turns out, after eleven years with Angie, Howard’s just discovered he has a nine-year-old son.

Unfortunately, by the time Bucky gets there, Howard is well and truly tanked. Bucky groans and makes sure the man isn’t going to choke on his own vomit and gets him to drink two full glasses of water before getting him into bed with a bucket and ibuprofen beside him.

Bucky shoots off a text to Peggy and Sam letting them know what’s transpired. Sam promises to be home within ten minutes to keep an eye on Howard, while Peggy says she’ll be there before Angie wakes up.

It’s after eleven by the time Sam arrives, and Bucky struggles for a few minutes to let himself go to bed before finally giving in. He knows he has to be at work in just under five hours. Thankfully, despite the eventful evening, he’s asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. When his alarm goes off at quarter after three, he grumbles, but gets up without hitting snooze. He peeks in to see the girls resting peacefully curled up together and breathes a sigh of relief before getting ready for his day.

 

[3]

The next two weeks fly by. Between long work hours and taking his turn as the buffer between Angie and Howard, he’s exhausted every night he falls asleep. Monday evening, following the night Bucky had spent hanging out with Steve, Howard had requested a “grievance gathering”, Sam’s more amusing name for a roommate meeting, to explain everything to all of them at the same time. 

About a year into their relationship, Angie and Howard had been broken up for nearly three months. During that time, he had had a very brief relationship with a woman named Maria. They went their separate ways after maybe half a dozen encounters, and he never thought about her again. He never knew she’d gotten pregnant, but had the results of the rushed paternity test to prove the claim correct. Apparently, the nine-year-old offspring of Howard Stark was just as ingenious as him. The kid, Tony, had taken the little information his mom provided and tracked Howard down himself.

Since that night, Sam, Peggy, Bucky, or a combination of the three of them have taken to mediating between Howard and Angie who both want to work through this surprise, but were barely being civil to one another. Bucky and Peggy had joined Howard on his sit-down with Maria to discuss parental rights and expectations. Howard wanted to get to know Tony, but he wasn’t ready to jump in as a father to the boy. By the middle of this last week, Angie and Howard were beginning to spend more time alone together again. In fact, tonight they were going out with Maria and Tony, without anyone else buffering the situation.

During the two weeks, Bucky has fleeting thoughts about Steve, but can’t make himself act on any of them. He wonders what would happen if he were to just go knock on Steve’s door, but chickens out whenever he hears footsteps through the ceiling. He thinks that if he had gotten Steve’s number the last time, things would be easier. A simple text or photo of something that reminds him of that evening they spent together. Like when Angie begs him to join her at Bed Bath & Beyond, and he spots a weird looking neck and back massager; he’d warn Steve of the competition priced at only $29.99. Or the one night Sam’s on dinner-duty and orders them Chinese from the same place, and Bucky ends up with the same shitty fortune Steve had gotten.

It’s one of the rare Friday nights where he has the apartment to himself and doesn’t have to go in early the next day, so he’s forcing himself to stay up late. His eyes had started drooping a little while ago, but he refuses to go to bed before midnight. Just two more hours, he thinks as he feels himself settling into the couch a little more.

The sound of incessant knocking jars him awake, and he stumbles up off the couch before he even really registers what’s happening. He squints at the wall clock to see it’s half past one. Damn his weak willpower. The person starts knocking again, pushing Bucky into action. He pulls the door open and is greeted by an annoyed voice whisper-shouting, “Oh my god, don’t wake up your poor neighbor! Jesus, come on.”

“But I just wanna see him!” Steve, in a deep v-neck and covered in glitter, is scowling at his friend, before he turns back to face the door. His face transforms into a wide grin before yelling, “Buddy!”

Bucky freezes; he had never even considered the fact that a glittering Steve could just as readily knock on his door.

“So sorry! Didn’t mean to—” the friend’s voice knocks him out of his daze.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Steve pushes a hand to her face without taking his eyes off Bucky. “Hi.”

“Hey Steve,” Bucky says, and he can feel his responding grin. “What’s going on?”

“It’s my mood improve night. Drinkin’ and wobble...wobblin’. This is ’Tash, and that I told you when we got Chinese. Mmm, can we get Chinese? I want fortune cookies.”

“Wobble?”

“Wallow. We were out trying to erase some bad memories and moods, and he got a little carried away,” the friend explains as she catches Steve when he tips toward Bucky. “I was just trying to get him upstairs.”

“Need some help?”

“Normally, I’d say no, but tonight I think I’ll take you up on that. I haven’t seen him drink this much since college.”

“He must have had a lot to erase,” Bucky says back as he pulls his apartment door shut behind him and lifts one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder. His own arm wraps around Steve’s waist, relieving his friend of most of the man’s weight. 

“Fuckin’ Brock,” Steve mutters and tilts his head to lean against Bucky’s. “Neededed to drink and dance for my mood improve, but been busy. Was gonna go when you moved but couldn’t ’cause you moved and needed moving help. And the new guy was all, ‘I am Groot’ and called off. I don’t get that kid. Thor’s the only one, the one who, like, gets him. But ’cause he didn’t work, I had to work, and so I couldn’t go out.”

Bucky isn’t sure what to say as they work to get Steve up the last set of steps to his apartment.

“So,” Steve continues, “tonight had to wait, and the more things happened, like you. You happened,” Steve breaks off into a giggle, tipping his head back. He starts swaying then to a song only he can hear. “’Tasha’s the best dancer and drinker.”

She shakes her head before pulling away from him once they’ve stopped in front of Steve’s apartment, causing Bucky to take on Steve’s full weight. He’s stopped swaying now, leaning fully into Bucky’s side. Bucky can feel Steve’s eyes on his face as his friend fishes his keys from Steve’s pocket. He turns and sees a soft smile on Steve’s face, his eyes unfocused as they move taking in Bucky’s features. 

“So pretty,” he says on a sigh, his free arm reaching up to ghost fingers across Bucky’s cheek. “And shiny.”

Bucky knows his eyes widen with the words, but before he can figure out a response, Steve’s friend pulls him back to guide him through the opened door. 

Thankfully, they make it to the couch before Steve decides being coherent is too much for him. Bucky stands awkwardly as the friend drops down to the couch as well.

“Thanks for helping. I’m Natasha, by the way,” she tells him as she bends to pull off Steve’s boots.

“Bu—,” he’s cut off when Steve, with his head tipped against the back of the couch, lets out a loud snore.

Natasha shakes her head fondly at the sleeping man before motioning for Bucky to follow her back to the front door. “Nice to meet you, and sorry again for bothering you. He was very insistent.”

“It’s no problem. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

She regards him with narrowed eyes for a moment, before lifting her chin in a hint of a nod. “Maybe. Goodnight, Steve’s Buddy.”

[|] [|] [|]

When Bucky gets up in the morning, Sam is sitting on a barstool with his face against the countertop.

“Fun night?” Bucky asks as he moves toward the coffeemaker that’s already brewing a pot.

“Oh yeah, night out with the coworkers is always super fun,” he says without lifting his head. “Make me breakfast?”

“It’s your knee that’s broken, not your hands.”

“But they’re not renowned, pastry-making hands. I want muffins.”

“Muffins aren’t a pastry,” Bucky tells him as he pushes a cup of coffee across the bar. 

“That doesn’t change my mind. I want muffins. Blueberry muffins.”

“My one morning off, and you demand baked goods.”

“At least I’ve picked something easy,” Sam argues, finally sitting up to watch as Bucky begins pulling out the needed ingredients. “Is that glitter on your face?” He asks when Bucky is facing him to place the flour canister on the counter.

“What?”

“It is. Why are you covered in glitter?”

“I’m not covered.” He turns away to preheat the oven to 425°F. He moves back to the peninsula to start mixing together the dry ingredients, the wet, and then the two together, steadfastly avoiding Sam’s eye. Thankfully, Sam takes the hint and decides to tell him about his night out instead. Between moving, adjusting to new commuting schedules, and the Stark-situation, the two of them hadn’t really hung out. Bucky loses the thread of Sam’s story as he starts waxing poetic about watching two people fall in love. 

Bucky feels his cheeks heat up and is glad to be looking down, concentrating on piping the batter into parchment-lined tins. He wonders if Sam somehow knows about the feelings he’s starting to have for Steve, but isn’t sure how that would be possible. He hadn’t said anything about hanging out with him that night a few weeks ago, and he isn’t about to now, covered in glitter. Sam would no doubt gloat about calling it that first day they met, but then he would ask the hard questions, like why didn’t Bucky tell him about it sooner. And he doesn’t have an answer for that. It’s all so new, and he really isn’t even sure if or how Steve feels. So, he knows keeping his mouth shut for now is the right thing to do. Still, he wonders if it’s somehow written across his face because Sam is still going on and on about how it looks when two people really belong together.

“Jess somehow convinces Luke to get up on stage with her, without sharing what her song pick was,” Sam tells him. Oh. Those two. His coworkers who have been incessantly flirting for the last four months without making a move. Sam’s been keeping everyone updated on the situation. “Then, ‘Eye of the Tiger’ started blasting and the crowd went wild. She started to do these exaggerated dance moves as he was just standing there, still as could be, watching her, but then the lyrics started and oh my god, Buck, it was amazing. Luke just belted it out! Every single word, and Jess just froze because she was not expecting that, right? But then she eventually jumped in and it was perfect. They were basically staring into each other’s eyes throughout the rest of the song. It was so crazy and like, intimate, and they didn’t even finish the song, he just grabbed her and kissed her. We all went crazy.”

“Did you win the bet?” Bucky asks with a laugh as he slides the trays into the oven and immediately turns the temperature down to 350°F and sets the timer.

“No, I was out last week. I think Murdock got the pot.” Sam shakes his head. “I need to introduce him to Clint. Everytime Murdock does something I just think of how well those two idiots would get along. Oh! Speaking of Clint, I was supposed to ask if you were free later. He needs feedback before his next show and wants your ‘artistic eyeballs’. Apparently, my ‘insurance eyes’ aren’t good enough for him.”

“Man! I’ve wanted to see his new set for weeks.” Bucky groans as he refills his coffee mug. “Unfortunately, I’m needed back in the bakery in a few hours.”

“Damn, wedding season isn’t for another couple months, what is happening over there? You’ve been working crazier hours lately.”

“I needed people to cover me while we moved so I reciprocated, then it was Hunter and Trip’s anniversary trip to Dubai, then Robin was sick so Melinda was off for a little bit,” Bucky explains with a shrug. “All of that on top of normal bakery hours, just piled on. It’s been alright though. I haven’t minded being this busy too much…” ...It had accidentally led him right into Steve’s apartment. 

“What’s with that smile? Did Wade Wilson finally show up for yo’ sweets?

“I wish. You know you’ve made it when celebrities start showing up.”

“So,” Sam wiggles his eyebrows as he draws the word out. “What’s got you smiling your cute-boy smile?”

“I don’t have a cute-boy smile.”

“Of course you do, go look in the mirror, it’s on your face right now.” Sam laughs at him. “So, who is he?”

“Why do you assume there’s someone? Or that it’s a boy?”

“We covered this, it’s your cute-boy smile not your goofy-girl grin. Who is he?”

“No one, Sam.”

“Does it have to do with the glitter?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about here.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“It’s new, okay? I don’t want to jinx it. I don’t even know if he’s interested, so just shut up about it. If it develops, you’ll be the first to know. Tell me about your knee. Have you heard anything new?”

“The info is new, okay?” Sam says back, tone completely mocking. “I don’t want to jinx it by sharing it with you.” 

“Oh my god!”

“We’re not done with this, Barnes, but I will respect the mojo so as to not jinx it.” He concedes before going on to give Bucky the good news that his knee seems to be healing nicely. It looks like he might even be off the crutches if everything at his appointment the following Wednesday goes well.

“I’m just glad this didn’t turn out like some of the claims I get,” Sam says a few minutes later as he holds up his coffee mug for Bucky to refill it. “I’d go stir crazy if I had to just stay at home and recuperate.”

“For real, you’re already a needy little shit.” Bucky says with a grin as he gives him and his mug a pointed look. “You’d be the worst.”

“Pretty please?” Sam sticks his lip out at him. Bucky rolls his eyes but takes the mug to refill because he is a good person. “Oh man, did I tell you about the claim I got the other day? The guy has been out of work going on three months because his chiropractor broke both his hips and a few ribs.”

“Holy shit. I mean, I get that people make mistakes, but a doctor? That’s some scary shit.”

“Right? Poor guy just had some minor back pain, went to the chiropractor and got so much worse. Crazy.”

Bucky shakes his head, never having been to a chiropractor and hoping to never need one. His job leaves him with aches and pains, but thankfully it’s never overly serious. He thinks back to a day at the shop a little over a week ago that almost lead his assistant to a chiro appointment. “Have I told you about our new kid, Deke? He’s a bit of a disaster, but ernest. Keeps dropping shit and measuring wrong. Last week he was making a batch of cookies, spilled the batter and then dropped the hot cookies straight from the oven. Morita almost slipped on the mess, but thankfully didn’t.”

“Damn. How long will he last before he gets moved out of the kitchen?”

“He’s just over a month into his six-month apprenticeship. He has some potential, I guess. We’ll see where he finds his groove, and if he doesn’t he’ll probably move to front of the house by month-three.”

“How much longer until I get those muffins in my mouth?”

“Few more minutes,” Bucky says without checking on them. “What are we going to do with two dozen muffins?”

“Leave a bunch for me, a couple for you and Pegs, and take some over to Howard and Ang,” Sam tells him with a shrug.

“Two dozen muffins, Sam,” Bucky says with a laugh. “Where is Peggy anyway? Did she not come home last night?”

“You’re the one that was sleeping on the couch, did you not hear her come home?”

“Didn’t hear you get in.”

“How late were you out there this time?”

“Around…1:30ish.”

“Better than last time,” Sam shrugs again just as Peggy’s bedroom door bangs open revealing a tired-looking Howard saving Bucky from having to respond about why it was better than the last time he fell asleep on the couch. 

“Food?” He asks, sticking his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout as he drops onto the barstool beside Sam.

“Muffins are just about done...what are you doing coming out of Peggy’s room?” Bucky asks with raised eyebrows just as the timer goes off. 

“Angie didn’t exactly kick me out, but Peggy made it clear that I was not welcome to stay.”

“What did you do?”

“What makes you think I did something? It could have just as easily been Angie that did something.”

“Did she?” Sam asks.

“Of fucking course not. She’s a saint. Finds out I fathered a child nearly a decade ago and is more or less dealing with it in less than a week.”

“So, what happened then?”

“I don’t even know. Dinner seemed to go great, but when we got home Peggy was waiting, so I went back out and met up with Dugan, Falsworth, and the guys. When I got back around two, Peggy was still there and basically wouldn’t let me in. I can’t figure out why.”

“Did you do something at dinner?” Sam asks as he makes grabby hands at the hot muffins.

“No? I was telling them about how I’m speaking at the X-STEM Symposium in a few months, and I decided to invite them. Which, commitment! I’m making a future commitment to them.” Howard takes a bite of his muffin and starts talking again around it. “Angie seemed okay with us talking about it, despite the fact that she hates science-related events. But Tony got super hyped up about it, more excited than I’ve seen him about anything since we met. And I get early entry and extra tickets, so I figured why not?”

“This is the symposium in D.C., right?” Bucky asks as he breaks apart his own muffin. 

“Yeah…”

“Oh man, no wonder she’s pissed.” 

“What? Why? She wasn’t going to use the ticket. It’s not like it was a front-row seat to  _ Hamilton _ . Now that I could understand, but this? I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I mean, you kind of did though.” Bucky tells him as he places a few of the muffins into a plastic container.

“How? What did I do?” Howard yells back.

“You invited your kid and baby mama to an out-of-town event, without discussing it with Angie first,” Sam answers him slowly. “An event that she, your fianc é , has no interest in going to. You screwed up, man.”

“Fuck.”

“Take these home and apologize,” Bucky tells him as he pushes the container across the countertop. “Make sure she knows she’s invited if she wants to go with you. Assure her that she is your world, and that Maria and Tony are not going to steal you away. Whisk her away somewhere. Make it up to her, be worthy of her.”

The other two sit across from him in silence for a few seconds. Before Sam whistles long and low. “Damn, Buck. You sure you don’t want to tell us about your new boy?”

“There’s a new boy?” Howard perks up with wide eyes. “Since when do you have a new boy?”

“I don’t. He might not even be interested. Just let it go.”

“Fine, but only because I have a fiancé to woo. I expect full details as soon as there are details,” he points with the hand not holding the container of muffins. “Wish my idiotic ass luck!”

“Luck,” Sam says with a laugh. “Oh shit, is that the time? I’ve got to shower before I meet Clint. Thanks for the goods, pastry-god!” He starts to grab another one and then looks down at his crutches in dismay, before he hobbles muffinless towards his bedroom.

Bucky’s packing up the remaining muffins as Sam is heading out. As he leaves he makes sure to remind Bucky to leave a good number of muffins for him. Bucky laughs and agrees as he shuts the leftover containers tight. Once they are all packaged up, he heads back to his own bedroom to get ready for work. As he scrubs off the glitter in the shower, thoughts fly through his head about the night before, and the other week, thoughts of pretty eyes, a great laugh, and the drunken grin. Steve is going to be so hungover, Bucky thinks to himself with a small grin of his own.

Just before he leaves, he doubles back to the kitchen to jot down quick note about how great blueberries are for hangovers and grabs the smallest container of muffins. He climbs up a flight of stairs quickly and stands there for a moment, second-guessing himself. Steve’s probably not even interested. This is so stupid. He’s about to turn and leave when he hears noise from the other side of the door. He bends before he can think anything else, places the container and note on the mat and books it back down the stairs. He spends the whole trip to work trying to convince himself that he didn’t knock because he didn’t have time chat, ignoring the voice in his head calling him a chicken. A voice that sounds like a mix of Sam and Peggy. He made a move, albeit a cowardly one, but still. It was a move. The metaphorical ball is back in Steve’s court; all he can do now is wait.

 

[4]

“What are you still doing here, man?” Mack asks after Bucky let’s out the fourth agonizing groan in thirty minutes.

“My job,” Bucky bites back. It’s been four days since he dropped off the muffins and hearing nothing back, not even a measly thanks, has put him in a terrible mood. It was made worse that morning when he slipped on a puddle of raspberry donut jam, tipping a tray with a towering Croquembouche, while twisting to catch himself, and tweaking his back in the process. He had ended up on the floor anyway with pain radiating from his lower back and side, with Deke standing above him with a rag in one hand and mop in the other. After thoroughly yelling at the kid and supervising the cleanup, Bucky had taken some ibuprofen and started over on the intricate French wedding cake that was needed for that evening.

“Someone else can handle the ’bouche,” Hunter cut in, trying to physically pull Bucky away from the counter.

“You’re the design master; I’m the pastry genius. Trust me, no one else here can successfully make this cake,” Bucky says as he winces while pushing Hunter away from him.

“You covered for me while I was gone; we can cover for you today. You need to go make sure you didn’t break your back.”

“It’s not broken,” Bucky says between gritted teeth as he turns to say it to Hunter’s face. “Besides, Morita is the only one I would maybe trust to make it, and his sister’s having a crash C-section and there’s no way we’re calling him back in. I’m fine.”

“There’s no way of knowing that without an X-ray,” Mack says. Unofficially, he’s the company’s H.R. rep, officially he’s their day-to-day operations manager. He’s been in the kitchen taking inventory for the last hour. He had done his best in trying to convince Bucky to go to the emergency room after the fall, but Bucky had resisted.

“He’s right, man,” Leo jumps in. “Jemma has this dancer friend who broke her back and kept dancing through the pain; it made the break worse and almost caused paralysis.”

“It isn’t broken. As soon as I’m done with this, I’ll go home and ice it. I’ll be fine in the morning, but I need to get this cake done.” He ignores them when they all try to argue. Once it’s finally finished, he gives strict instructions on delivery and heads home, barely making it up the stairs and to his bed.

[|] [|] [|]

He’s not fine in the morning. It takes him nearly fifteen minutes to get out of bed. He spends another thirty standing under the hot spray of his shower. He pops a few ibuprofen and makes it to work nearly an hour late for his shift. It turns out that it doesn’t matter, Morita is there already working on their itinerary for the day.

“My sister’s fine, so is her beautiful baby boy. I heard you had quite the day,” Morita told him with a grin. “You shouldn’t be here, my man.”

“Bucky!” Daisy’s voice calls out from behind him. He turns to look down the hallway and sees her leaning out of her office. “Congratulations, you’ve got the day off and an appointment at Vibranium Vertebra in an thirty minutes.” As owner of Quake’s Cakes, he knows not to argue with her about this. “They are the most renowned chiropractic clinic in the area, and getting you in on this short of notice was not easy. Trip was hanging around this morning and has graciously agreed to accompany you to the clinic, have fun.”

He rolls his eyes, but goes with Trip without a fight. At the clinic, Bucky sits in the surprisingly comfortable waiting room chair and fills out the paperwork detailing his medical history and the extent of his injury. Before long, he’s ushered into a patient room by a young technician who introduces herself as Shuri. She takes an X-ray of his torso and asks him the same questions the paper he’d filled out had. He dutifully answers them and allows her to examine him.

She makes a couple jokes as she tests his range of motion and reflexes. Before long, she claps her hands and lets him know that the doctor will be in to see him shortly.

“Should I lay down, stay upright, or…?”

“He’ll need to feel your back before making any adjustments, so you can go ahead and lie down on your front.”

“Thank you.” She nods in response before leaving the room. Bucky lifts himself from where he’s been sitting on the edge of the table. It takes him a few more minutes and attempts than he would like to admit, to figure out the best way to climb onto the table without aggravating his back further. When she had been in the room, Shuri had done a great job of detailing what she was doing. It had eased his nerves, but now that she was gone, the nerves start creeping back in. It doesn’t help that the bed is facing away from the door, so Bucky can’t even easily look up at the doctor before he or she starts “making any adjustments”. He can feel his body tensing up as the minutes tick by. 

He starts going through some breathing exercises trying to calm himself down when there’s a light knock on the door before it opens.

“Hello Mr. Barnes, I’m Dr. Rogers,” a deep voice greets from behind Bucky. Then there are hands on his back gently feeling around his spine. “From your scans, I’m pleased to inform you there are no broken bones. It feels very tight, but nothing too serious. Go ahead and try to relax.” Something about his voice rings as familiar to Bucky as he’s flooded with relief over the good news. He goes boneless for a second until Sam’s words from the other day about that claimant filter through his head, and he can’t help the way he tenses right back up. 

“You’re really going to need to relax, otherwise this will be for nothing,” Dr. Rogers tells him in a light voice. Bucky nods and concentrates on his breathing again, closing his eyes to picture the degree certificates that lined the wall behind the front desk. There had been a lot. This is a credible place, with credible doctors, who aren’t going to break him. Besides, Daisy had claimed it was renowned.

“I’m good. Sorry.”

“It’s perfectly normal for your first time,” he says and Bucky can hear the grin in his voice. “I need you to take a deep breath and let it out slowly.”

He pushes and massages his way up either side of Bucky’s spine. “There we go, it’s starting to loosen up. I’m going to start realigning now; go ahead and drop your arms down to either side of you and take a deep breath in. Release it as I push down.” He says before using his strength to begin cracking Bucky’s back. The instant release is incredible. All the focus on his breathing goes out the window as he melts into the table. 

It leaves his mind open to focus on other things, like the doctor’s voice that’s still ringing in Bucky’s ears. He’s wracking his brain, trying to place it when the man’s hands move up Bucky’s back to his neck and the way his thumbs push as they run up transports Bucky back in time as it clicks in his head. 

“Oh my god.”

“You okay?”

Bucky turns his head to the side so he can look at the doctor, the man’s hands fall away. “Oh my god,” he repeats when he sees Steve standing over him. “You actually get paid to do this?”

“Oh damn...hi?”

“Hi,” Bucky shifts to prop himself up on one elbow so he can actually look at Steve, who has taken a couple steps back. Bucky can already notice the difference with just the slight adjustments Steve’s made so far. 

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea. Your name—” 

“No, no don’t apologize. I don’t use my nickname on medical forms. How could you have known? I had no idea you were a doctor, though. What about the moving company?” Bucky, with a little effort, sits up fully to appreciate the way Steve looks in khakis and a button down with the sleeves rolled up. 

“Thor and I started it in undergrad. I needed money to pay for med school, and he just loves helping other people out. It was supposed to be a temporary thing, but it grew to where we needed to hire more people. Then it grew again, and our customer base was too good to shut down. Thor handles pretty much the entire company now, but I still help out when needed.” 

“Wow. You look about my age, which makes me feel dramatically unaccomplished.”

“Didn’t you say you were a manager?”

“Yeah, manager, big deal. You’re a freaking doctor and own a side business.”

“Could you open your own bakery if you wanted to?”

“Probably, but I love my staff too much to ever want to leave.”

“There you go. Not that I have any proof, but I’m sure your baked goods are incredible. I’m positive you’d have a super successful shop if you opened your own.”

“No proof? What about the blueberry hangover muffins I made you?”

“You made me muffins?” Steve asks in a soft voice. 

“Did you think the muffin fairy visited you?”

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about…”

“Saturday morning. The tupperware and note on your doorstep?”

“Saturday? I had the worst hangover I’ve had since college, but how would you—wait, that was real? Oh my god.” Steve reaches up to cover his eyes. “Is it as bad as I’m remembering?” 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Bucky offers, but when a wounded groan leaves Steve, he continues, “It was actually kind of…adorable? You couldn’t figure out how to pronounce words.”

“Oh god.” Steve drops his hand and lifts his eyes to meet Bucky’s.

“I figured the hangover was going to be killer with how wasted you were, and like I put on the note, blueberries are great for immunity, so I hope the muffins helped.”

“I never got any muffins. I woke up on the couch when Thor started making a bunch of noise...and was eating something...oh my god, that bitch stole my muffins! He didn’t even tell me about them.”

“Here I was thinking you were just an ungrateful jerk,” Bucky says, knowing there is a smile on his face. Probably his stupid cute-boy one. 

“No! I’m so sorry. If I had gotten them I would have…” he trails off, looks down and scratches at the back of his neck.

“Would have what?”

“I don’t know?” He shrugs, eyes still down. “I would have at least thanked you. I mean, you made muffins. For me,” he finishes glancing back at Bucky shyly. 

“Yeah.” Bucky is almost positive it isn’t all just in his head. “I did.”

Nearly a minute passes as they just smile shyly at each other before people in the hallway walk by, speaking and laughing loudly. It jolts Steve into motion again. 

“We should, uh, get back to why you’re here. Want to lay back down? Are you comfortable with me finishing up?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Bucky says and moves so he’s back facedown on the  table. “Your hands are magic, man. I’ve been imagining feeling them all over me—oh my god. I did not mean—oh god.” Bucky’s thankful his stupidity waited until his face was hidden before making a fool of him. He can feel the blush covering his cheeks. “I did not mean for that to sound suggestive. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Buddy. Not the first time someone’s given me a compliment; though, maybe the first time someone was so blatant about it,” he tells him with a light laugh. He then places his hands on Bucky’s neck before moving them down and out to both shoulders. The only words between them for the next few minutes is Steve instructing him to breathe or shift as he works his way back down to Bucky’s lower back.

He must flinch or tense up when Steve hits the most tender area because the other man freezes and asks if Bucky is still alright.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just really sore right there.”

“What exactly happened?” Steve asks as he massages the spot. Bucky explains between gasps and moans as Steve increases and decreases the pressure. Halfway through the story, Steve asks him to roll over onto his back. Thankfully, he’s distracted with the story so he doesn’t have to think about the way Steve’s hands are moving up, down, and around his body. When he’s finished telling Steve about Deke, he seamlessly moves onto sharing about the bakery itself. With every pop and crack, he feels better and relaxes further into the table. Soon enough Steve takes a step back from the table with a smile. 

“That should do it. Roll to your side to sit up so you don’t throw anything out of balance.”

“God, you’re seriously magical.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Steve says with a laugh. “We need to go over what you can do daily to help. You’re going to have to do some stretching so it isn’t so tight.” Bucky watches as Steve’s cheeks pink and eyes widen as he realizes what he’s said. “Your back! So your back isn’t so tight.”

“It’s okay, Buddy,” Bucky parrot’s the other man’s earlier words. It makes Steve huff out a laugh as he shakes his head, before turning to the counter against the wall. He grabs a piece of paper and hands it to Bucky. It’s full of stock images demonstrating various stretches. 

“The top four are the ones I think you’ll find most beneficial, especially when you’re working longer hours. I recommend doing them in the morning and again at night just before bed, at least for the next couple weeks. You should also be taking it easy...meaning try not to work doubles for a week straight, and take breaks to walk around every hour. You should also be icing your back when the pain flares up, okay?” He then goes onto to demonstrate each of the stretches on the page to make sure Bucky’s movements are correct. 

“Good. Now when you do them for real, you’ll want to hold that for thirty seconds or so, then release and repeat on the other side. Perfect. Like I said, try to do them every morning and night. I think we should also schedule you for a reassessment in about two weeks just to make sure everything is where it should be. I’ll have Shuri see if T’Challa or Okoye is available when it works for you.”

“I wouldn’t see you?”

“Oh. You could...but then I wouldn’t ethically be allowed to ask for your number. And, I really want to get your number...if that’s okay with you?”

“More than okay,” Bucky nods with a grin. “Phone?”

Steve pulls his phone from his pocket and clicks around to the new contact screen. Bucky types in his name and number before sending himself a text.

“Bucky?” Steve asks with a confused frown once he has his phone back. “Your name is Bucky?”

“Umm...that’s what I go by, yeah? I thought you knew that?”

“I swear your friend said ‘Buddy’ when she introduced you on the day you moved. I’ve called you Buddy like a dozen times? Why didn’t you correct me?”

“I thought you were just being friendly? Like, calling me a buddy or pal?” Bucky answers him with a laugh. 

“Nope, I’m just an idiot.”

“Pretty sure your medical degree proves you’re not. Besides, you weren’t in top form that day, you didn’t listen to a thing I said, how was I supposed to expect you to listen to Angie?”

“I remember us making peace about that over Chinese, which means you’re not allowed to bring it up ever again.”

“Pretty sure I never agreed to that,” Bucky tells him with a shake of his head as he stands from the table. “I reserve the right to bring up your horrible first impression whenever I see fit.”

“How is that fair?” Steve laughs as he pulls open the exam room door. 

“I never said it was,” Bucky says with a laugh of his own as he pulls on his jacket and follow Steve into the hallway. They’re still laughing together as they make their way to the front desk. Bucky doesn’t miss the look Shuri shoots both of them, but chooses to ignore it as they set up his next appointment.

 

[5]

Per Steve’s instructions, Bucky tries his best to take it easy. It’s been a week, and he’s been stretching, icing, and resting his back regularly. Work stops for no man, though, so he hasn’t actually seen the other man since the chiropractic visit. They’ve been texting though. A lot of texting. A lot of obvious flirting too, if Bucky’s honest with himself. It hasn’t gone beyond texting and flirting though, so Bucky still hasn’t mentioned it to any of his friends—despite Sam’s less than subtle looks and remarks. Whatever this thing is, it’s new and between him and Steve, and the four of his friends can be overbearing on a good day. 

He’s a little passed the halfway point of his workday getting a batch of Danishes going so they’ll be ready for the afternoon. As he works, his mind is on the question of if he’s supposed to ask Steve out, or wait for Steve to do it. Earlier that day, Steve had casually mentioned that he’s free for a few days, starting with that evening. He hadn’t followed it up by asking if Bucky was also free, and Bucky wasn’t sure if he was supposed to offer up the information himself. He had responded to something else they had been talking about, and now is mentally beating himself up about it. He’s trying to figure out a way to casually bring up that he’s also free after work...but doesn’t want to come across as desperate or something. 

“Um…excuse me, Bucky, sir?” Deke stutters out as he comes up to stand beside Bucky, breaking him out of his thoughts. “I think I need your help…”

“What is it? I’m in the middle of this,” Bucky responds, not looking up. It’s not that he’s mad at Deke, but he’s not been the warmest to him since the accident.

“There’s a couple out there for their wedding cake tasting, and I was told to just follow the paperwork and write down specifications before they get started, but then he started asking all these questions. The paper doesn’t answer them, and I didn’t know what to say, and the guy started asking for a manager. Hunter and Leo took off on a delivery a little while ago, Daisy’s locked away in her office, and Melinda isn’t available now since this is the second in five back-to-back tastings, and she’s getting the cakes ready. Mack’s not in yet, and Piper and Davis are handling customers. So, I need you…”

Bucky sighs, but tries his best to make Deke understand that asking for help was the right thing to do. Normally, he’d take the kid back out there so he’ll learn the answers, but the Danishes need to be rolled out so they can chill for another hour otherwise his whole schedule will be off.

“Can you handle these?”

“Yes, sir. Morita taught me the proper procedure for them a few days ago.”

“Good. Please don’t mess them up,” Bucky says before grabbing a towel. He’s stepping away when Deke stops him.

“Um, sir? Do you have the recipe, just in case?”

“Oh, yeah…” he pauses trying to recall which binder this recipe would be in. It takes him a couple minutes to find the correct one and sets it open in front of Deke with instructions to ask for help if something doesn’t make sense. Once Deke is set, Bucky pushes open the swinging door that opens into the shop and comes face to face with Steve. Steve who is standing beside a shorter man with short, dark curls and glasses. His eyes move between them before settling back on Steve, who looks just as shocked as Bucky feels.

“Are you the manager?”

“Uh…” Bucky moves his eyes from Steve to the man speaking beside him. “Yeah…yes. Sorry, what can I help you with?” He pushes all thoughts of anger and betrayal from his mind and focuses on being professional. He picks up the paperwork Deke had started to see “Banner, Bruce” scrawled across the top and a few boxes checked.

Bruce starts in with a barrage of questions concerning a laundry-list of allergens members of the wedding party and a few guests had. Bucky answers each question he has and commits to ignoring the fact that Steve is silently standing there too. He helps narrow down the possibilities to three gluten-free, dairy-free, nut-free, vegan options and two just dairy and nut-free for them to try.

Armed with the excuse of taking the list back to Melinda, he tries to excuse himself, but Bruce starts in on another set of questions concerning design and delivery. Bucky holds in a groan as he calls over Bobbi, who’s just stepped out on the floor, to take the list back to Melinda.

He’s been discussing the entire process with the two men— _ the happy couple _ —for nearly an hour when Bruce’s phone ringing interrupts them. He excuses himself to take it with a soft smile and moves a few feet away from them.

The buzz of the bakery keeps it from being completely silent between Bucky and Steve for the next few moments. Bucky resolutely keeps his eyes off Steve until he hears the other man clear his throat, gearing up to say something. Bucky’s eyes snap to Steve, his professional facade fades away as disgust twists his features. He’s shaking his head before Steve can even try speaking.

“Out of respect to your fiancé, I’m going to keep my mouth shut, but I won’t be apart of it anymore. Melinda will be out soon with the cakes, but I suggest finding a different bakery. Lose my number.”

“Buck—” Steve tries, but Bucky has already disappeared through the door. He leans against the wall just inside the kitchen for a moment and attempts to process what he’s just learned. How could he have gotten it so wrong? Before he can get his swirling thoughts in order, the door swings open. “Bucky!” Steve shouts, voice full of distress.

“Get the fuck away from me.”

Steve turns, eyes wide, to look at Bucky, taking in the dangerous tone in his voice. He takes half a step back until he’s just outside the doorway. “I can explain. Please, please let me explain!”

Bucky pushes himself off the wall and grabs the door to push it shut, only to have Steve slap his hand on the surface to hold it open. 

“I’m not—we’re not. Thor! Thor is his fiancé!”

Bucky looks up, passed Steve to see Mack, Piper, Davis, a handful of other employees, and customers all staring at them. He grits his teeth and pulls Steve into the kitchen.

“Thor got a nasty case of food poisoning yesterday, and when Bruce reminded him of the cake-tasting, he puked on the spot. They tried to reschedule, but apparently you guys are really popular and booked solid for the next four months, and they can’t wait that long to nail down a cake. So, I offered to come because who can say no to free cake, right? I had no idea this was your bakery! Though, I should’ve put it together since Bruce and Thor are only using vendors that are outspoken advocates. You guys fit that bill perfectly with how inclusive you told me you are here.”

During all of this, Bucky stands still listening, unsure of what to say. After spending the last hour thinking Steve was scum for flirting with him while engaged, he needs a minute to process. “So, you’re not engaged?”

“No! I’m single...well, mostly single…” Steve looks down for a second, before raising his eyebrows and looking at Bucky through his lashes. “There’s this guy I’ve been flirting with, and it might lead to something. Soon, I hope.”

“I—”

“Make way, I’ve got a tasting!” Melinda calls out as she moves toward them with a rectangular platter with five slices of cake. Bucky and Steve move over to make way for her to pass through the door.

“That’s you. Go, try the cake. I’ll, uh, call you when I get home.”

“Buck—”

“Um, excuse me, Bucky, sir? The dough for the Danishes is ready, but I’m not sure I did the whole ‘sidewall’ thing correctly. Can you come take a look?”

“Yeah, Deke, of course. Steve, go. I’ll call you.” Bucky tells him before following Deke back over to the pastry area of the kitchen. He checks out the dough and finds it just a little off, but not irreparable. He coaches Deke on how to finish them, and finds the kid is a natural. He takes to it like Bucky had when he was younger. Bucky keeps Deke on his service the rest of the day, showing him tricks and learning how much he knows. They’re cleaning up their station when Melinda wanders by with a grin.

“I remember the days Polly and Phil would wait for me to get done, just to walk me home. It’s sweet.”

“What?”

“Your boy, what was his name? The friend with Banner?”

“Steve?” Bucky asks, still confused. Their cake tasting had to have ended over two hours ago. 

“That’s right! He’s still out there waiting for you.”

“He’s what?” 

“Is he not your boy?”

“I mean...not really.”

“Do I need to remove him?” She asks, eyes twinkling a little too much at the prospect of using her secret ninja skills. 

“No! I mean, we’ve been talking but he isn’t...we’re not...not yet anything.”

“Well, he seems charming and sweet, if that helps any. Go on, I’m pretty sure your shift is over anyway. Deke, what time did you get in today?”

Bucky walks away before he can hear the answer. He doesn’t quite believe that Steve is really out front waiting for him. He pushes open the door and spots the other man almost immediately. He’s sitting in one of the leather chairs with a book in his hands. Bucky ducks back into the kitchen before Steve has a chance to look up. He pauses to lean against the wall and process everything he knows about Steve. It doesn’t take him long to come to a decision. Steve isn’t his boy...but he wants to change that. He moves quick as he grabs his bag and jacket from the staff office, and makes his way back out to the shop.

“What if I had just left through the back door, huh?” He asks by way of greeting, face schooled into a serious expression.

Steve looks up startled and blinks twice before shrugging. “I hadn’t considered that, but I’m really glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah...so am I,” Bucky tells him, letting a flirtatious smile spread across his face. “You hungry? There’s this place around the corner that has the best mac and cheese.”

“Sure, all I’ve had today was cake,” Steve nods with a laugh. He turns and shoves the book he’d been holding back onto the shelf behind him before standing. “Lead the way.”

They make their way to the small family-owned diner a few doors down in silence that’s just this side of awkward. It’s been years since dating someone was more than just a one night thing for Bucky, and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. They’re led to a table, given menus, and the kid promises a server will be by shortly before leaving them alone. 

“The best mac and cheese, huh?” Steve asks with a shy grin after they spend a few moments silently looking over the menu. 

“Yeah. I’m getting it, if you want to try something else, you can definitely have a bite.”

“The way they’re bragging about their Reuben here intrigues me, so I think I might take you up on that.” His stomach lets out an impressive grumble as he sets his menu down. Steve lets out an embarrassed chuckle before saying, “Guess I didn’t realize how hungry I am.”

“I’m right there with you,” Bucky grins. “I had a reject cinnamon roll around ten, I think. What did Bruce think about the cake?”

“He was in heaven. They were all delicious, by the way.”

“I don’t usually have a hand in the cake baking, but thanks,” Bucky says with a smile. Their server swings by the table then to get their order. Once they’re alone again, Bucky doesn’t know what to say. Steve is playing with his straw wrapper when Bucky glances up at him; he looks almost as nervous as Bucky feels. Steve’s eyes move up and meet Bucky’s before darting away quickly, a little smile on his lips. Bucky takes a drink of his water and reminds himself that this isn’t a date. It’s just the two of them getting food and hanging out, just like before. But still, it feels almost like a date. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

“So…” Steve says before letting out a nervous chuckle. 

“So?”

“Um...that, uh...that was the kid, right?”

“Kid?”

“The one that landed you in my office?”

“Deke? Oh, who was working on the Danishes, yeah. Yep, that was Deke.”

“Did he screw them up?”

Bucky can’t help the laugh as he shakes his head no. “Actually, he showed some real promise with pastries today. He’s an apprentice, so he’s been learning a little of everything to see where he works best. So far, today is the best I’ve ever seen him work. Which, y’know, is great, but it means he’ll be my sole responsibility soon. That’ll be a lot of headaches, I’m sure.”

“Maybe he’ll surprise you?”

“That has been happening to me, as of late,” Bucky says back with a grin. 

“Funny,” Steve rolls his eyes. “Speaking of the night I proved I wasn’t a, what did you call me? A raving asshole?”

“Raging asswipe, I believe.”

Steve lets out a full bodied laugh and shakes his head. “Speaking of that night,” he repeats giving Bucky a stern look. “What ever happened with your friends? The ones that had a fight or something?” 

Bucky’s eyes widen and he leans back, “I never did tell you about that, did I?” He goes on to tell Steve all about Howard and Angie and the wild ride that is their love story. He’s still talking when their food is delivered to their table and as they both begin to eat.

At some point, he moves on to talking about his friendship with them, Sam, and Peggy. Soon after Steve starts telling him about his friends too. Bucky learns all about Thor and Bruce’s relationship, his coworkers at Vibranium Vertebra, and his nearly twenty-year friendship with Natasha. 

“Speaking of Natasha,” Bucky starts when Steve’s finished a story from when they were in middle school. “Is it too soon for me to ask about your night of drinking?” 

Steve lets out an embarrassed groan, covering his face with his hands. “You can’t hold anything I said against me, okay? I was incredibly drunk—” 

“No, I mean, you did call me pretty,” Bucky tells him with a grin. “But actually, I was going to ask about the bad memories that needed erasing, but I’m not sure if I’m allowed to ask about that yet..”

“Oh. You are…” Steve lowers his hands and gives Bucky a shy look without continuing.

Then, it’s like they have a silent conversation, before Bucky lets out an exasperated noise. “And what were your bad memories, Steve?”

“There were a few small things for a few weeks, that I probably would’ve been fine with if it hadn’t ended with my ex showing up on my doorstep. The ex that I was head over heels for when I found him cheating on me, a little over a year ago.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Seeing him just put me in a really shitting mood that lasted for awhile. Natasha was getting annoyed with me and said we needed to improve my mood by going out dancing, but then we had to put it off since Moving Heroes was short-staffed.”

“Then I happened, right?”

Steve scrunches up his nose at Bucky’s tone. “Yeah, you happened. With your arguing and micromanaging and hating me, and then your exhaustion and teasing and concern. And at that point, I didn’t have your number and was very upset about it. I think I had plans to get it that night; I vaguely remember complaining to Nat about you and your phone number.”

“So that’s why you came knocking on my door in the middle of the night. Everything makes sense now,” Bucky says, grinning back. “I’m glad we were able to remedy that last bit.”

“Yeah, I am too.”

Before they know it nearly two hours have passed them by. While Steve excuses himself to the bathroom, Bucky grabs up the bill to pay at the front counter. A friend of Angie’s from a few different theater projects slides up to work the register and grins widely at him. He somehow always forgets that Darcy works here until he sees her.

“Well, well, well, isn’t your new main squeeze a cutie.”

“Hello to you too, Darc,” Bucky says with a laugh. He hands over enough cash to cover their bill and makes sure to leave a healthy tip for their server that missed out on flipping their table for so long. “He is, isn’t he? But Steve isn’t really mine…not yet anyway. Maybe soon?”

“Oh sounds like there’s a story there, you’ll have to fill me in at the next game night.” She winks at him and nods in the direction of the bathroom. “See you later, Bucky!” She slips away as Steve joins him by the door.

Bucky’s maybe a little bit in love with the blushy smile Steve gives him when Bucky tells him he paid. Steve’s promising to get the next one as they walk out of the building. 

The silence between them as they walk back to the bakery isn’t nearly as awkward for Bucky as it had been earlier. He thinks about holding Steve’s hand as they walk side-by-side, shoulders occasionally bumping, but before he knows it they’re back near the front door. They both slow to a stop out of the way of the slow stream of customers going in and out of the bakery. A feeling of reluctance settles over Bucky when he realizes they’ll be parting ways. He’s parked around back and wonders about Steve.

“So…” Steve starts, interrupting Bucky thoughts. “Would it be presumptuous of me to ask you to take me home?”

“Would I be taking you to my apartment or yours?” Bucky can’t help but ask with a grin. 

“Oh, maybe you’re the presumptuous one,” Steve says with a light chuckle. “I should probably check on Thor, though, so mine. Bruce had a client meeting tonight, so the guy’s all alone.”

“Can’t blame me for trying, despite the fact that we haven’t even had a first date,” Bucky says back as he leads Steve to the small staff parking lot around the building. 

“One could argue that having dinner together constitutes as a date, and we’ve done that. Twice now.”

“Both times were accidents, though,” Bucky says as they climb into his truck. “A date, if I'm not mistaken, is a planned-in-advance outing together. Which we haven’t done.”

“I stuck around the shop today, in a premeditated way…”

“Premeditated by one, not agreed on by two. Not a date.”

“Well, in that case, Bucky, would you please go on a date with me? Maybe this Sunday? There’s this art fair I keep seeing ads for, and I just found out my friend Clint will be performing at it.”

“Barton? I didn’t know you knew Clint.”

“Yeah...he and Natasha were in some club together in college. I didn’t know you knew him.”

“Angie worked for him a few years back before he switch careers, but he just kind of became a part of the group.”

“Yeah, that was the same with us. He actually introduced Thor and Bruce...I’m a little surprised we didn’t meet through him.”

“I think he introduced Angie and Howard, come to think of it…huh.”

“So,” Steve says, regaining Bucky’s attention. “Sunday, will you join me?”

“I’d love to,” Bucky tells him. He can’t wipe the smile from his face the entire drive home, not that he wants to. 

Later, as they’re slowly climbing the stairs to their apartments, Bucky finds himself laughing at something Steve’s said. He’s a couple steps ahead of the other man as they make it to his landing. His laughter fades as the feeling from earlier resurfaces making him linger in front of his door. He turns to watch Steve come up the last few steps before stopping to linger as well. 

The reluctance gives way to the earlier awkwardness as the silence stretches between them. The easy conversation has vanished, and Bucky tries to come up with something to say. He plays with his keys and looks from his door back to Steve.

“Well, this is me…”

“It is…” Steve responds, his tone matching Bucky’s. “You firm on your stance that this wasn’t a date?” 

“I am.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Steve steps a bit closer.

“Sunday isn’t that far away.”

“It's just a long time to wait.”

“It’ll be here before we know it.”

“Oh, I’m sure. It’ll just be tough waiting for the end of it.”

Bucky can’t help the laugh as he tilts his head to ask, “You’re already looking forward to it ending? How am I supposed to feel about that?”

“For the end of the first date kiss. Because even though this is a non-date, I want to kiss you,” Steve whispers, eyes moving from Bucky’s eyes to his lips and back again. “Really bad.”

“I mean...maybe my stance on the matter could be persuaded—” He’s cut off by Steve’s hands on either side of his face guiding their mouths together. Bucky responds immediately, but Steve pulls back all too quickly, so Bucky closes the short distance once more. Their second kiss lasts a few seconds longer, but is still over too quick. 

“You’re dangerous, Bucky Barnes.” Steve accuses, his voice still pitched low, hands still cradling Bucky’s face. He leans in again and presses one last chaste kiss to Bucky’s lips before pulling away altogether. He backs a couple steps away before promising to see him Sunday, then he’s gone up the steps. 

Bucky’s floating a bit as he opens his door and toes off his shoes, so he doesn’t catch the low voices coming from around the hallway wall until it’s too late. The high from the kissing evaporates instantly as Peggy yells at him. 

“James Buchanan, I cannot believe you!” She’s glaring at him from behind the kitchen peninsula. Sam is sitting on a barstool, turned facing Bucky and shooting him a look that Bucky can’t quite parse out.

“What’s happening?” Bucky asks wearily as he drops on the stool beside Sam. 

“Three! I had to hear it from three people that you and Steve are a thing! Three different people knew before me! How dare you keep me in the dark!”

Bucky freezes, stomach dropping. He’s caught. “I mean, to be fair, I was keeping everyone in the dark…”

“Sam was one of them!”

“Hey! I told you not to name me!” Sam interjects, throwing his hands up. “Buck didn’t want us to know yet, for some crazy reason.”

“How the hell did you even know?”

“Steve told me.”

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“Our schedules are similar, and we chat in the lobby,” Sam shrugs. “We already agreed to be running buddies once my knee heals up completely.”

“Of course,” Bucky rolls his eyes at him before turning back to Peggy, “Wait. You said three people?”

“Darcy and Mack both texted asking about your new boy, so I asked Sam about it when I got home only to learn that I’m the last to find out about this.”

“Ang and Howard don’t know anything. I just...I don’t know...I wasn’t even positive he was interested until a few days ago.”

“Like a month ago, Steve ‘slyly’ asked about my friend with the hair. I didn’t think anything of it except that maybe he wanted to apologize for being a dick on moving day. But then, that morning you made me muffins totally gave you away. He mentioned a few days ago that he was getting to know you better and had that same dorky grin on his face. I’m positive he’s into you.”

“Yeah, me too,” Bucky says, thinking back to the kiss in the hallway.

“Yep, that’s the look.” Sam says, pauses a second before smacking him lightly on the arm. “You promised I’d be the first to know if it developed, which it obviously has, so what gives?”

“It only really developed today…sorta…” at the matching looks he gets, he continues, “I ran into him last week at the chiropractor, turns out he is one—”

“Yeah, Thor said that when we were moving when Steve wasn’t there,” Peggy interjects. “Oh yeah, that was on the day you were pouting, though.”

“Anyway, there wasn’t much before that.”

“I don’t believe you.” Sam frowns at him.

“That’s not my fault.”

“Come on, Bucky,” Peggy begs. “There has to be more to it.”

“More to what? What’d we miss?” Angie asks as she and Howard walk into the room with bags of Indian takeaway. 

“You bought dinner?” Bucky asks, astonished. He’s ignored as Peggy answers her.

“Bucky was just about to tell us, in detail, about what’s been happening between him and Steve.”

“Wait Steve? Is Steve the new mystery boy?” Howard pauses in digging out paper plates to ask. 

“Steve as in the douche mover who lives upstairs?” Angie chimes in again as she pushes Bucky from the stool he was sitting on to claim it for herself. 

“He’s not a douche; he was just going through something,” Bucky defends almost too quickly. All four sets of eyes are trained on him. He sighs. “We’ve been getting to know each other...pretty much completely by accident.”

“When have you been getting to know each other?”

“There was one night we ate Chinese...a few weeks after we moved in. And the night he showed up here drunk, and when he turned out to be my chiropractor...then the brief period today where he was engaged—”

“He was what?”

“Oh my god, Bucky!”

“It wasn’t anything,” he rolls his eyes and moves to pour himself a glass of water. “Just a misunderstanding. Anyway, it led to us getting dinner and actually get to know each other.”

“Does that mean you don’t want any of this chicken biryani I got specifically for you?”

“Sorry, Howard, I didn’t know you guys were coming over with food. I ask again, why did you buy food?”

“No, no way,” Peggy interjects. “We’re not done grilling you yet. If you and Steve have seen each other that many times, then why haven’t we heard about him?”

“I told you; I wasn’t sure anything was really happening…I probably would’ve told you about him tonight...or tomorrow.”

“And why’s that? You could just be saying that because you got caught.”

“I’m not… things developed.”

“Oh?”

“We have a date planned for Sunday. A date where Clint will definitely find out, so there will be no way it’ll remain a secret.”

“A date? Like a real one? Oh my god, no wonder you didn’t want to jinx it!” Sam says with a mock exaggerated gasp. “Could this turn into a real, honest-to-god relationship?”

“Oh shut up,” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t think I’d live to see the day.” Howard joins in on the teasing. 

Peggy’s got a wide grin covering her face as she leans in, her earlier attitude gone. “So, tell us about him! Sam’s campaigning to be his new best friend, but I only have the mover asshole image in my head.”

“How does running buddy translate to new best friend?”

“Wait, hold that thought,” Angie says suddenly, before jumping up and dashing to the bathroom; Howard’s quick to follow. The violent sound of her vomiting fills the silence left by their abrupt exit. Peggy’s moving to follow when Angie pushes passed Howard. “Morning my fucking ass,” she mutters as she crosses the living room to get back to the kitchen. She grabs Bucky’s glass of water and downs it. 

“Um...Ang? Howard? Can we circle back around to my earlier question of why you bought dinner?”

“Why does that even matter?”

Sam and Bucky share a look before Sam finally catches onto what Bucky’s been seeing and says, “The last time you bought Indian you told us you were engaged.”

“That’s absurd!” Howard shouts. “Why does there have to be some ulterior motive when we buy food.”

“I’m not saying there is; I’m just stating true facts,” Sam says back. 

“You so are—” 

“I’m pregnant!” Angie interrupts him with a shout of her own. “We had a whole plan of what to say, but then the Steve news got us off track. Apparently our little kumquat isn’t a fan of saag paneer.”

“You’re pregnant!” Peggy rushes over to wrap the other woman up in a hug. “How far along are you?”

“About 10 weeks,” Angie answers as Bucky moves to wrap his arms around Howard. 

The five of them spend the rest of the night celebrating and discussing baby plans with the happy couple. He also can’t help but be thankful the conversation doesn’t circle back around to his upcoming date with Steve. He doesn’t want to jinx it before it has a real chance to go anywhere...and he really, really wants it to go somewhere.

 

[+1]

Bucky can hear the shower running, but it isn’t enough to fully rouse him. He shifts until his face is smashed into a cooler section of the pillow. One that smells like Steve instead of the stale air of the hotel. It makes him grin, as does the fact that the other man is in the adjacent bathroom, all naked and wet. He spends a few moments internally debating the benefits of sleep versus sex, but before he can come to a decision the water turns off. He lets his mind drift back to the night before in hopes of falling back to sleep. Those hopes vanish as Steve exits the bathroom with only a towel around his waist. 

“Hey, sexy,” Bucky says, voice rough from the spectacular blow job he gave the night before. He rolls over and pushes himself up by his elbows so he can watch Steve better. “Remind me, did you sign a napkin last night agreeing to switch apartments with Angie and Howard?”

“I did,” Steve leans down to kiss Bucky good morning, but moves out of his reach before Bucky can get his hands up and around the other man’s neck. “What do I need a three-bedroom for anyway? A one will work just fine for me...and you. I believe you also signed the napkin, declaring your need to wake up to me every morning.”

“It is a mighty need,” Bucky says with a sigh, letting himself fall back down against the pillows. “I didn’t sign anything else, did I?”

“Not to my knowledge, but there was a brief time I was rehearsing and not by your side, so anything’s possible.” 

“I can’t believe their baby will be here in less than a month!”

“I can’t believe they’ve been making Tony sleep on the couch. Poor kid!”

“He claims he doesn’t mind, but I’m sure he’ll love having his very own bedroom.” Bucky can hear Steve moving around and fabric rustling as seconds tick by. He rolls to his side and props himself up on one elbow. Steve is nearly completely dressed, looking delicious in his fitted tux, but the sight makes Bucky frown. “It’s way too early for you to be that covered up.”

“Best man duties, babe,” Steve says with a shrug as he finishes buttoning up his shirt. 

“I’m sure any duties can wait…” Bucky says as he pushes the sheets away from his body to show Steve what he’s missing. “Sure you don’t have a little time?”

“I cannot show up late, reeking of sex, because you decided to sleep in. I tried to get you up earlier to shower with me.” 

“Lies.”

“You grunted and pushed me away,” Steve tells him with a laugh. He’s sitting on the small sofa now, pulling on his shiny dress shoes. “If I’m late, Thor and Bruce will give me identical disappointed faces, and I can’t have them disappointed on their wedding day.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Bucky sighs. “I have to get ready so I can check on the cakes before the ceremony anyhow.” He pulls himself up from the bed and moves to drape himself across Steve’s back as he bends to tie his laces. “Just wait until after the reception, Dr. Rogers,” he says before turning to trail kisses across Steve’s jaw. Steve turns his face to meet Bucky’s lips in a kiss. Just as Steve begins to deepen it, Bucky pulls back to whisper his intentions into the other man’s ear. He can feel the way Steve’s face flushes from where their cheeks are pressed together. He can’t help the grin as he pulls back to wink at Steve, before pulling away from him completely and exaggeratedly sauntering away to the bathroom, knowing Steve’s eyes are on his ass the entire time. 

Steve ends up disappointing the grooms. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
